


One Step At A Time

by indigorose50



Series: LT Shippy Week 2019 [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: “How can you, the King of Moving, not know how to dance?”“I do not know how to dance with someone. Can you help me out or not?”





	One Step At A Time

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: Dancing/Singing!

“Teach me to dance.”

The words fall out of Íþróttaálfurinn’s mouth before the thought can fully form in is mind. Robbie stares at him, eyebrows up, and Íþró wonders if Robbie can see right through him.

“Why?” Robbie asks after a pause.

Íþró shrugs, trying to sound as causal as possible over his rapidly beating heart. “I do not know how. Bessie and Milford are getting married tomorrow. There will be dancing at their reception.”

Robbie blinks owlishly. “How can you, the King of Moving, not know how to dance?”

“I do not know how to dance _with_ someone. Can you help me out or not?”

“Of course I can help you!” Robbie cries. He stands up from the bench the pair had been relaxing on. “Meet me in the lair in a few minutes.” With a snap of his fingers, he disappears.

Íþró fans the resulting puff of smoke out of his face and takes calming breaths. His thinly veiled excuse for spending alone time with Robbie actually worked.

For almost a year now, Íþró has been coming to Lazytown regularly. At first it was to visit Sportacus. After meeting Robbie Rotten, Íþró had found himself looking forward to seeing him as well. He was fun to talk to, smart, and had an adorable laugh. A swarm of butterflies stirred Íþró’s stomach whenever he found himself near Robbie.

This dance lesson was the perfect time to get closer to him and maybe… figure out what the butterflies meant.

Taking a steadying breath, Íþró stands and makes his way to the billboard.

* * *

An hour later, Íþró just wants to be as far away from Robbie as physically possible.

“Move your left foot up more. Don’t put your arms down! You just let go of your partner! Try slowing down a bit. Okay, now— _don’t look at your feet_!” Robbie punctuates this last line of instruction by clapping his hands between each word.

Frustrated, Íþró whips around. “How am I supposed to know where to put my feet if I do not look at them?!”

“You manage to _walk_ just fine without looking down!”

“I do not usually walk _holding_ someone!”

With a growl of frustration, Robbie slams the stop button on the CD player. Íþró is standing in the middle of Robbie’s main room, arms crossed and humiliation heating his face.

“Why is this so difficult for you?” Robbie snaps.

“I do not know. Maybe it is your teaching!” Íþró winces at his own words and continues before Robbie can speak. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Robbie.” He sighs and takes off his hats to run a hand through his hair. “I asked you to help me. I should not yell at you.”

Now Robbie’s the one looking down at his feet. “It’s… it’s fine.”

Íþró feels a heavy weight crush the butterflies inside him. He has upset Robbie. His attempts to grow closer have backfired horribly. Swallowing, Íþró starts to walk past Robbie to the pipe. “We can stop now. I will go—”

“No.”

Robbie’s near whisper stops Íþró in his tracks even before Robbie grabs his arm. Robbie clears his throat and repeats himself louder. “No, maybe you’re right. It is my teaching.”

“I should not have said that. I said I was—”

“I shouldn’t have been making you dance by yourself.” With gentle tugs, Robbie leads Íþró into the center of the room, hitting play on the CD player as he does so. “You need a partner.”

Stunned, Íþró lets himself be pulled. Robbie guides his hands into the right spots so Íþró is leading.

Then they are dancing. Slowly, and Íþró is stepped on twice before he figures out which way to move, but they are dancing. Together.

Íþró realizes they have not been this close together since they met. Robbie is tall, his hand warm around Íþró’s own, eyes locked on Íþró’s. Instead of barking directions from across the room, Robbie speaks calmly. He hisses in pain a few times as Íþró’s boots come in contact with his toes but he does not get angry again.

They spin a few times to the rise and fall of the music. Íþró isn’t sure what song it is so he has no idea how long they have been dancing. Or how much time they have left.

But he really feels like he is learning the steps. Before too long, Robbie’s voice fades away as Íþró makes fewer mistakes. Íþró even starts to move a bit faster. He belatedly wonders if Robbie even has the energy level for this much movement. Robbie voices no complains as they pick up the pace, moving in sync through new steps, reading each other’s body movements and anticipating turns and spins. They wear matching grins, breaths coming in pants.

Finally, even Íþró can tell the music is winding down. With a surge of newfound confidence, he ends them in a low dip. Robbie’s surprise is clear. He wraps his arms around Íþró’s neck as if Íþró would even let him fall. Their chests rise and fall, faces inches apart. Robbie’s breath is honestly not pleasant; it smells of chocolate and someone who has yet to brush their teeth this week. But it’s _new_. It’s something Íþró wouldn’t notice unless they were as close as they are now.

“How was that?” Íþró asks quietly.

Robbie’s wide eyes have yet to leave his face. At the question, Robbie gulps. “Not… not bad.” He starts to right himself and Íþró helps him keep his feet. Disappointment settles over Íþró as they untangle themselves. Robbie crosses back to the CD player and pauses the song that had started up next.

Íþró fully expects Robbie to announce the end of their lesson. Instead, Robbie flicks back to the song they had been dancing to and makes his way over to Íþró.

This time Íþró knows exactly where to put his hands even as he looks up at Robbie, slightly confused.

“You need more practice,” Robbie explains as they begin swaying. “For tomorrow.” His face is red and he’s looking down at their feet.

Íþró cannot resist. “Eyes up,” he says through a smile. After a moment, Robbie follows the command. Their eyes lock. Íþró finds himself smiling wider. “Now do not look away.”

Robbie’s smile matches his own and the pair start their dance anew.


End file.
